Way too deep
“I drained my drink, walked to the kitchen
poured a refill
I looked around yes, I was at my place
I recognized the
kitchen.
another
Happy New Year.
Jesus.
I walked out to face the
people.” — Charles Bukowski from his poem, moving toward the 21st century
If it’s not already obvious, there’s too much emphasis apropos of language on the separate, concrete ‘me’, ‘I’ or ‘self’.
In large part, it’s premised on giving us something to do or aim for.
And it’s premised on the idea of more.
If I needed to illustrate my point look at the lexicon:
self-development
leadership
enlightenment
worship
devotion
and that bugbear writ large, namely, be all you can be.
As I have said in the last two posts, that’s fine if that’s the way you’re disposed (as if you have a choice in matters of the heart etc.), but like all things we bear witness to, there is (also) a sense of the unknown, unknowing and ineffable. We can’t put our finger on it save to say that we recognise the truth in the expression ‘emptiness is form’ knowing that everything in our dualistic world and forever has been changing — even the mountains — and combined that with words which do not describe the form, and we begin to get a sense that trying to develop a ‘me’, ‘I’ or ‘self’ seems, if not a bit silly (but perfectly understandable), then at least a bit off the mark. The classic way to expose this oddity is to adopt a pattern of self-inquiry, i.e. Who am I?, but that only takes us so far when we understand that there is no I etc. Or Douglas Harding’s idea of having no head — yes, really.
The truth is what we’re seeking we already are and that’s simply unknowable or not needed by the I. In fact, the logic of what is being pointed at is the last thing our separate self is looking for because in the process it would have to die and there would arise to non-one, empty fulness or the impersonal appearing as the personal.
I recognise that what is being described is out of whack with the plethora of messages that we’re practically force fed but you’ll be pleased to know that there is nothing on offer here; no message you can bottle and sell; and it’s just as likely to turn you very much off to my writing as it is to garner a few more readers.
If there is any invitation, though, it’s to ask yourself what’s happening at any moment in time. Not clock time or the now but this moment.
Put it this way: imagine everything being new and new and new…
What then?
Blessings.
Julian